Drabbles
by elitemassacre6
Summary: These drabbles are Faberrittana, any combinations of the girls. I haven't set myself a word limit, so expect variances in that.
1. Clarification

A/N: So this is kind of an AU version of the Pezberry/Quitt of Hold Your Peace.

It's so stupid, her motivation for sitting up there, failing at attempting to stare at stars very different from her own. Santana would love to forget about it. The way it had been so clear Rachel was being honest about the way she felt.

Santana gave a weak smile as Quinn came sat down next to her. Of course it would be her, another blonde would be downstairs consoling her brunette.

"You're being an idiot, San. The way you and Britt were before...She kind of said the same thing tome one night, about Rachel. But anyway she's down there thinking you're off somewhere chasing pavement. I..I've never been as happy as I am with Britt, but think about this the other way around, then bring your ass back downstairs." Quinn presses soft lips to Santana's forehead before dissapearing beyond a cold steel door.

Minutes later, Santana's standing outside the door to her apartment, thinking about the stars she doesn't belong to and th one she does when Quinn pulls open the door and kind of pull/shoves the shorter woman towards her girlfriend.

Rachel is still in the process of apologizing when Santana slips the box out of her pocket and the ring on her finger.

"I love _you_, okay? So marry me."


	2. Drive

Santana seems, despite their earlier conversation, surprised to find Rachel at her door. The shorter brunette can only guess that maybe her friend thought she'd chicken out and text to call the whole thing off. She didn't even consider it.

Her sex rive has kind of recently developed a mind of it's own and it hapens to be driving her crazy. The singer'd been taking care of it herself, but it's not enough. She's still got enough control to have waited the week it took for her to talk herself into doing this and into not asking Quinn to come visit for the weekend. If the blonde becomes any more indisisive about what she really wants, Rachel's going to lose control, take a hint from her best friend, and tell her to fuck herself.

Anyway, Santana extended the offer a long time ago. The shorter singer wondered a hundred times if she'd been serious but realized that the latina's neer said anything (expect when she did) that she didn't mean.

"I'm surprised, didn't think you'd ever take me up on that offer, Berry. What changed your mind?" There are a few law books stacked on a table in front of the couch, Santana in the kitchen finishing a glass of white wine and then putting it in the dishwasher. When she turns back around, Rachel's standing in heels and her skirt, nothing else.

"You in a rush?" She asks, an eyebrow propped up above darkening chocolate as she licks her lis, eyes glued to olive skin. Even through the fact that Rachel's ridiculously turned on right now, she recognizes the tone in the question. They've been friends since they were both eighteen. She let's out a sound that sounds a bit like a whine, and Santna smirks at her.

"I'm trying not to be. But i've been thinking about you for a week and you're standing over there in shorts and a tank licking your lips and your so sexy, and I kind of really want you. _Right now_, Santana." The latina nods, then pulls off ther tank and shorts, she's completely naked now, watching as Rachel's chest heaves with her breath.

"Come're" Rachel nods, reaching down to slide down her skirt and pull off her heels.

"No, keep 'em on."


	3. Atlas

It takes months before she's able to say it out loud. It takes an hour of her frowning and zoning out for Rachel to get it out of her. The singer frowns for her, wrapping Quinn in her arms without the warning she usually gives beforehand. The brunette says that she should just be honest and open, go to Santana and tell her how feels, even if it's only so she doesn't force herself to bury it down and carry it around with her the way she always has.

Brittany is sitting there as the words fall from her lips, hanging off Santana comfortably, like she belongs there. And fuck, because she does. Quinn does not. She never has, and she has always known she never will. Chocolate eyes go wide when she finally goes silent, but the owner of the blue irises just frowns in compassion, her arms slipping from tan shoulders and then wrapping around Quinn's own. Of course Brittany knew. The tall, gracefull, blue-eyed, blonde whispers the words 'I love you' into Quinn's ear before she walks out of the room.

She watches Santana try to come to terms with this insanity, a tan hand runs through black locks, she falls back onto her back.

"-The fuck, Quinn? What am I supposed to do here?"

"I'm sorry, okay? Nothing. I just couldn't keep it anymore." She would never wish for them to not be. Only that they would maybe not look at her like she was some nutjob. She got enough of that elsewhere.

"I love you Q, and you know...but...I'm fucking sorry too." Rachel's still there when she goes back outside, sitting there in her Chevrolet, reading Shakespeare and listening to Bon Iver an she does it again, when Quinn closes the passenger door, hugs her without the warning that Quinn isn't sure she needs anymore. Not from her.

"I realize that you live only approximately four minutes walk away, but your coming home with me, and I'm making you carbona and we're going to watch Victorious and Parks and Rec and we're stopping on the way to buy that bacon icecream from that place you like."

"Do you have like an outline that you pull out that says 'Quinn Fabray: Heartbreak' on it?" The blonde asks, that eyebrow up, she narrows her eyes when Rachel changes the music from Bon Iver to Lana Del Rey and you finally relax when she doesn't play "This Is What Makes Us Girls" and goes with "Video Games" instead. Ok.

"I don't, but I do know you, Quinn. And I love you, okay?"

"Love you too Rach."

So, she's not falling apart. At least not right now. When she does, inevitably, her best friend will be right there. Maybe she should talk to Rachel about writing a song.

A/N: I guess after reading this, the title seems a little strange, but it's really about the way that Quinn has been carrying this around the way she does, like Atlas carries the weight of the whole world on his back.


	4. Cardio

Santana walks in around ten minutes late to pick Brittany up from the dance class she's in. She's more than a little confused to find her best friend dancing around the large room, not alone, but with Rachel Berry. She watches them execute their choreoraphy with skill that no one else she knows possesess, less iritated than she probably should be.

The latina knows they have ballet and contemporary together, but the music filling the room around them is heavy with percussion and bass. She's seen Britt dance this way hundreds of times. Not so much for the other brunette. There's no one in the room but the three of them, and Santana's just at the threshold, leaning on the wall. She's watched them go through the entire thing, their hips attracting her attention more than anything.

She pulls off her hoodie and drops her bag, startling Rachel when she hops in line next to her. When the music loops again, she's able to pick up the movement with practiced ease. Having been a cheerio for so long has it's benefits. She follows along without too many misteps, pulling her hair back into a loose bun after they go through it together the third time.

A few hours later finds them at Breadstix. (Rachel's Treat) All three girls are freshly showered, and Rachel smells like pineapples and strawberries Britt is smiling but obviously more tired than the other two girls, her head on the smaller brunette's shoulder, a smile on her face.

On the way back to Britt's, Santana has finally realized just how not only cool but also really sexy Rachel is, so she asks the girl if she's up for more potentially exausting exercise. When the singer answers that she's not sure if she can dance anymore that da, Britt clarifies that Santana is asking if she wants to have sex with them.

Rachel does not decline.

A/N: So, yay, Berrittana!


	5. Raw

The first time legitimately scares her. Brittany touches Quinn like she knows her. Really knows her. What she likes, what she wants, things the shorter blonde only learns she wants then and there. She says all the things Quinn has ever wanted to hear from her and it terrifies her. The only other person who's ever known her this way broke her heart to the point to which she had to start rebuilding it from scratch.

When Quinn wakes up, the bed is empty of the heat and weight that occupied it the night before and Quinn is already laying into herself for thinking that Britt would stay with her when the gorgeous blonde walks back into the bedroom naked, a plate of bacon and eggs and two cups of coffee. Everything is exactly the way the actress likes it and she lets her head fall back onto the pillow, a loud sigh escaping her lips.

"Mornin' baby." Is spoken against bow-shaped lips as Brittany kisses her. Rachel called her that too, but Quinn is ok. Brittany's lips taste like coffee and bacon and the small blonde kissed her again before digging into her breakfast. When they're both done, Britt washes up their three little dishes, her hair down from it's loose ponytail, the golden strands hanging around gorgeous breasts.

Quinn takes her against the bed, her tongue and then her fingers buried in sweet heat before they hop in the shower, get dressed, and head out for their shared photoshoot with GQ. The movie they costar in is getting a ridiclous amount of publicity and Quinn almost feels petty for the fact that she can't wait until Santana and Rachel see the two blonde's in the magazine hanging off of each other like they belong there and the article confirming rumors of their romance.

Almost.

A/N: I kind of really love this though i'd maybe like to change some of the phrasing. but, anyway, this is number five, hope you guys are digging these.


	6. Hurt

"Quinn why...why did you do this? I can't really understand." Rachel had set her eyes to hazel the second Quinn's eyelids had lifted, She couldn't see them now, the blonde wouldn't look at her. She didn't understand...things weren't perfect, but it was a rare occasion when anything was in Lima. The other girl still wasn't looking at her, her eyes were focused on the calender tacked to the wall.

"It's been a week. I'm sure you know you lost alot of blood, but you also hit your head pretty hard. Your mother found you. I'm not sure if that's what you intended...When she called me I thought maye she was inviting me for dinner again? When she told me me what had...what you'd done I hopped in the car and grabbed Noah. He went upstairs to grab you and when he put you in my back seat you were covered in your own blood and so was he. I'd never seen him cry before that. I sped off to the hospital and they took you away from us. Judy was right behind us." Rachel frowned, gazing at the tears that fell from eyes she still couldn't see as they slid down cheeks still paler than she'd ever seen them.

"Your mom and I donated alot of blood and the next morning they let her see you while we sat together in the chapel the whole time. I let Noah see you first, then I sent him to bring us all clothing. I was a little worried about him peeking into our underwear drawers, but I had more pressing concerns. You were so so pale, Quinn. do you think you're ready to tell me why you tried to end your life?" Hazel eyes finally locked back onto her own and Rachel exhaled when Quinn nodded.

"I just...I'm tired of hurting people and I thought-"

"Do you think this doesn't hurt me? Do you realize that if she hadn't found you would be dead right now? Permantly gone. I wouldn't just be able to talk your mom into to letting me walk up to your room, or pull you into an empty classroom and force you to talk to me. You'd be just...just fucking gone. God Quinn. I just don't understand why you felt like this was the best option there was for getting rid of whatever you're feeling...I love you and you'd have never known.

"I'm sorry okay. I didn't know. I feel that for you too. I'll uh..I'll do my best to try and gain your trust again."

"Just please talk to me okay? I'm gonna send in Noah. He's been really worried." Rachel kissed dry lips before she dissapeared beyond the door, nodding at the pacing brunette boy to head on in. She fell into Brittany's arms when they extended towards her, the tears finally falling.

"Shh. She's okay now Rach."

"It's alright, baby. Q's okay, and so are you." Santana said, slowly rubbing her hand over Rachel's back to calm her.

They were both wrong.

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but it's one of two concepts that have kidnapped my every waking thought.


	7. Sunday

Santana shivered, the feeling of Rachel's warm fingertips against the soft skin of the dips of her spread thighs raising goosebumps on her arms. She shook her head when the other woman grinned, those soft lips a few inches below her navel.

"How the fuck can you be ready to go already, Rachel? I can barely move up here."

"I'm not." The shorter brunette said, She placed the lightest kiss against the back of the latina's hand before crawling up her body and laying them on the pair below her own.

"I just love touching you. kissing you. Laying here with you in this bed." Santana frowned, her eyebrows dipping down and wrinkling the skin above chocolate eyes. Rachel kissed the furrow of her thin brow, head tilted in question.

"Baby what's wrong?" The taller woman locked her gaze to the other's when the words were spoken. Rachel had only ever said that word while one of them was on a short trip to an orgasm.

"I just. I know we agreed that this would just be easy. Just sex. But it's not that for me anymore. I fucking... I love you Rachel...and I need to know that that's okay." Santana had learned her lesson in a McKinley halway. She wouldn't ask for Rachel to love her too.

What she needed wasn't too far from what she already had. They'd stopped sleeping with other people months ago. Rachel's room was across the hallway. They spent alot of their free time together. She didn't think she was asking for too much.

Rachel's eye opened a little wide before she closed them, cuddling herself onto Santana's side, those perfect lips brushing against the latina's neck as she spoke. "Of course it's okay. I love you too, alright? I'm sorry i haven't said anything. I've felt like such a coward about that lately. The feeling was not appreciated." Rachel straddled those hips she loved so much before leaning down and taking a nipple in her mouth, her tongue swirling around it.

"I'm going to make you come again baby. Too show you how much."

a/n: this feels incomplete in a way i don't completely understand, but meh. i'm okay with it.


	8. Gaze

The way she feels the first time Santana catches her staring isn't something she predicted. She'd expected to be afraid or at least cautious. What she feels instead is this rush of excitement. Those chocolate eyes are deadlocked onto her own and Santana looks more curious and less mildly pissed off.

She's been doing it for more than a month, following the shorter girl with her eyes. Blaine said that she's just in the stage of her infatuation in which you just have to have your eyes on your object of affection. Quinn thinks it's more the fact that she hopes that soon enough, Santana will turn those eyes her way and finally see _her. _

When it finally happens, it's near the end of a glee club meeting. Quinn aquieses when Santana grabs her hand and pulls her to the the red Chevy Sonic she drives. Ten minutes later their sitting across from each other at the Ohio Cow icecream parlor. There's some kind of coffee, brownie, caramel swirl icecream in Santana's waffle cup. Quinn has mint chocolate chip in her cone.

"So. Spill." Quinn licks her lips and drops her shoulders, that impeccable posture lost.

"What do you want to hear?" She asks, licking dripping melted icecream from her fingers when Santana doesn't answer right away.

"I don't know."


	9. Hero

Rachel had never seen the tallest of her girlfriend's that angry. Britt disliked violence as much or more than she did. She looked over at the blonde now, only keeping her eyes open for the time it took her eyes to lock onto blue. Brittany's hand was buried in the hair at the nape of her neck, soothing away the tention and leftover fear. They were driving to the blonde's house, it was the furthest from the school, from what had happened there.

"Ha! Looks like I was right, faggot spawn, you are a fucking dyke!" Rachel cringed in pain, a huge hand that didn't belong there was tight on her shoulder, she cryed out quietly when her back hit the locker behind her, she'd be bruised badly tomorrow.

"You get your neanderthal hands of me right this instant Azimio! This is a hate crime! I will press charges!" She puffed her chest out and stood tall in an attempt to make herself look bigger. It was a mistake. She almost threw up her post-lunch snack when a fist connected with her abdomen, knockng the air from her lungs and causing the first tears to fall. A ruff hand wrapped around her right breast, squeezing painfully.

"Ain't none of your girls here now, bitch. Good thing. Me and my boys, we got exactly what it takes to fix people like you." Another hand reached for her skirt and Rachel didn't feel it fall away, already having trouble breathing again, spots in her eyes, her head was spinnng. The hand that had been pagriping her breast fell away and Rachel swore she could smell the vanilla and coconut scent that always told her Brittany Pierce was near. It was okay. She was okay. She looked up as Brittany pushed the bulky weight of azimio a few feet away, standing almost directly in front of the brunette.

"You keep you fucking hands off her!"

"What you gonna do retard? Santana ain't here to protect either one of you." The random hockey player who dropped that statement fell to the ground when Rachel kicked her foot up into his groin. Brittany was here, she was okay now.

"She's not stupid, you...you asshole!" Rachel caught the smalled smirk from Brittany before a pale hand landed straight on the other lumbering idiots jaw. He was down.

Aimio was still left standng, slowly backing away from the girls with one hand up and the other covering his own groin.

"Look, it was just a joke okay, we wasn't gonna touch her, Pierce..."

He went down next and Brittany grabbed Rachel's hand and they left the school.

They were finally walking into the house, headed towards Britts room only for Rachel to immediately lay down on the bed and cuddle up next to Lord Tub.

"I'm sorry I got there so late, Rae. I was helping Tina with this stupid dance to surprise Mike and then I saw the time and when I got there and he had his hands... all over you...I'm so sorry, baby." She pressed a kiss to the brunettes lips before dissapearing then then reappering with a few ice packs for the other girl's inevitable bruises.

"I'm okay now. You came for me, and that's what matters. I don't...I don't know what they were going to do, but you showed up and kicked their asses and if they ever try anything again i'll...i don't know, mace them or something. Do you think Quinn and Santana got over that stupid fight?"

"Yea. It's like five thirty and neither one of them is here or has called, so they're probably at the house all cuddled up.


	10. Chosen

Rachel is more than a little surprised when Quinn calls her up about an installation down in Boston. She wants Rachel to perform, says she's perfect for the job. When she first explains it, the actress is more than a little wounded from the insinuation that she isn't as beautiful as other actresses. Quinn is quick to clarify what she means.

"Don't even. I think you're _so_ fucking beautiful, Rachel. The point of the piece is that your beauty is unconventinial, unique. I know you'll like the way it's set up. You're off for a few months and I also know how much you miss performing while you're off the stage. It's only for a week, and you can stay with me. I told you a rent apartments there and in the city, right? The car'll be there at a quarter after ten. So pack up. I'll see you sunday, Rach." The phone clicks and Rachel drops her phone next to the couch cushion she just fell unceremoniously onto. She was going to be staying with Quinn. For a week. She can handle that. She bites her lip and shakes her head.

Rachel reluctantly pulls herself up from her couch and drags herself into her room to pull out the luggage Kurt'd sent her for her birthday. She's already packing essesentials when she hears a key in the front door and then it opening, the clicking of heels and then the shutting of the door filled her ears.

"So did she call?" Santana asks, ebony locks cascade down her back when she sticks her head into Rachel's door, an eyebrow raised. Rachel should've known the two of them would have known. It doesn't bother her.

"Did you say yes?" Brittany asked, collapsing on the bed beyond the still packing Rachel.

"I said yes, i'm heading out the day after tomorrow." Rachel's alot more excited than she probably should be and she tries to calm herself down. Depsite the fact that Quinn apparently thinks she's beautiful, She can't let herself get too excited. The last thing she wants is to feel like a fool when she's treated like nothing but the friend she's everything but satisfied being.

"Ready?" Santana asks, the latina breaks an already peeled banana in half and hands a peice to Brittany before starting to devore her own.

"Yes." Rachel will try to be carefull. Being around Quinn for any extended amount of time always makes her feel like she used to so many years ago. Books clutched to her chest, staring up at bow shaped lips and warm golden eyes. Like timid, self conscious Rachel Berry again.


	11. speech

She knocks on the door the way she always used to before they traded keys. Her half clenched fist banging on the door more times than is probably decent for what Rachel would call people with the proper amount of patience and decorum. Britt looks a little confused when she opens the door, her eyes open wide, that crystal blue catching Santana's attention immediately.

"Hey, baby." She lays her hand on a perfect hip gently and moves the blonde out of the way so she can step in the door. Brittany closes it behind the both of them.

She's clutching two garment bags in her raised left hand, and when she sees the high-hanging coat rack on the wall, she hangs them both up. The blue eyed goddess steps closer and Santana attaches their lips for a few seconds.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready? You've only got a few hours, San." A full bottom lip is being worried between white teeth and Santana shakes her head, just now noticing the recently washed state of her girlfriend's hair.

"No. Baby you were right. I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not. Fuck Gabe, I'm taking you with me, alright. Kurt'll be here in a minute or so, he's gonna get us both looking ridiulously sexy, and then we've gotta jet. The car'll be here in an hour and a half.

"Seriously? You're sure about this Santana? I don't want you to risk something so important to you over taking me to the grammy's." The latina singer rolled her eyes, fingers caressing the soft skin of the choreographer's forearms.

"There's nothing more important to me than you. You've wanted for me to take you to the grammy's since we were nine, Britt. We're doin' this. I know I'm stupid and I fuck up, but I promise you i'm not going to ever forget that again, alright? Anyway, I think that's Kurt and his team, let's do this baby."

"And the best new album of the year award goes to...Santana Lopez for All I Ever Need!" ' I Just Want You' starts to play in the backround and Santana stands up, smirk on her face though the tears are already starting to fall. She's attacked as a part of this giant hug between Kurt, Britt, Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes, and Mike. A moment later, they let her go and the singer squeezes her girlfriend's hand before starting down the aisle. Lady Gaga is clapping for her when she passes and there's Adele and Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood doing the same as she nears the stage and then she climbs those steps gracefully. Some woman hands her a grammy and she closes her eyes. She's supposed to say something right?

"Oh my god! It's so amazing to be holding this thing that's nothing if not proof of how hard it is to get here. I just, I have to thank Mark Gill, Jason Ames, and Tim Nguyen for helping my album even think about getting onto shelves. Also Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones for calling people up and making them think I was worth the time and money. Will Shuester for teaching me that music is the second love of my life. Kurt Hummel, Quinn Fabray, and Mike Chang for being the best friends ever! And most of all. Brittany S. Peirce for always knowing me better than my self. For loving me depsite my faults. For helping me realize that music is my passion, not medicine. And for being the first love of my life. I love you _so_ much, baby. I never would have had this grammy in my hand if not for you.


	12. Memory

Rachel breathed deep, her bag swinging under her arm as she walked down the hallway outside one Quinn Fabray's apartment. She stopped in front of a door and went to pull her phone from her pocket to check the apartment number.

"Always on time aren't you?" The brunette looked up and to her right, Hazel eyes catching her attention before anything else. Then the hair, bright pink as she hadn't sen it for more than six years.

"Hi. I mean...yes, punctuality is extremely impotant to make a great first impression." Quinn laughed, her body leaning against the door frame. Rachel watched as a pink tongue peeked out, running over curved lips.

"Come in." The star nodded, aware of the other's eyes on her body as she strutted past her and into the sparsely decorated apartment, her heels clicking against the wood. The only thing discerning the space from an empty aartment were the couch, television, and the abundant amount of art on the walls.

"This is nice, Quinn. Bare, but nice." She saw a peice on the wall and walked towas it. The name Fabray had been written in the corner in curvy script that Rachel knew to be Quinn's.

Rachel spun round and caught now-greenish eyes. Quinn walked closer and the brunette turned back to the painting, exhaling when a hand found itself to the small of her back.

Brown hair flowed out behind the girl in the painting. One hand, the right, was suspended at her side. The other wasn't visible Rachel still owned that dress of pale green.


	13. Care

When she comes back into the room with the tray, a bowl full of soup on it's surface, Brittany pouts [in a way that's always made Santana want to banish away everything making the blonde feel like shit. She'd do it if she could, but instead she frowns apologetically and walks closer, gently pushing the tray onto their bedside table.

"Hey, baby. You sleep alright?" The back of tan fingers splay across the sick dancer's forehead, brushing soft hair away. Her wife shakes her head and frowns and Santana kisses it away, well aware of the fact that she'll be the one with this bug in no time at all.

"You cooked for me?" She asks, a tired smile on her lips as Santana fills up a spoon and places it between her lips.

"It's miso soup. To warm you up. I called Rachel and she walked me through it. She and Quinn say feel better, and that they love you. That goes for me too. You eat this, then a hot bath, alright, Britt?" A blonde head nods, leaning towards the table to grab the tray. She digs into the bowl and Santana stands as she disconnects her lips from her wife's forehead.

When she reaches their ensuite, she turns on the water and pours in Brittanys favorite bubble bath, the scent of it causing her to relax as it hits the hot water. Santana takes a seat on the side of the huge bath, closing her eyes as she stirs her fingers through the water.

Brittany comes in behind her, already stripped of her clothing. She pulls off the latina's shirt with little resistance, next her shorts. Santana slides into the tub, her wife doing the same across from her. The shorter of the two reaches across and links their fingers together.

"You feeling any better, Britt?"

"Yea, I'm good, baby. Thank you."

"I love you, Brittany." They lay there for then minutes more, Santana eventually sinking down a little more. Brittany steps out of the bathtub and lifts the smaller woman right out of the water. She grabs a towel along the way and wraps it around her wife's body. Back in the room, she dries her off and tucks her into bed.

"I love you, baby."


	14. View

It knocks the wind out of her, the way Santana smashes into her with so much speed. Long, lithe legs are wrapped around hips, and the two of them are so close, pressed together like there's an infinately deep pit of gravity buried within Quinn and the latina couldn't help but fall into her like the matter she's made of, like the light that reflects off of the tears in her eyes when they finally seperate.

"I missed you so much, Q. You don't even know." Quinn laughs quietly, her eyes mirthfull and squinted with her smile.

She presses their lips together. Barely any pressure. Pale arms wound around a thin waist. It's their first and it feels that way. Santana loves the way Quinn smiles against her lips as they start to pull away a few inches. "I missed you too, San."

Quinn finally looks around, thin, pale fingers intertwined with a darker tan. It's so hot out, and Quinn's just starting to realize that.

"Baby?" Quinn pecks the other girl on the lips once more.

"Hmm?"

"Take me to the beach?" Santana grin and nods, seperating from her girl to throw the luggage in the back seat of her car. When she's done, she pulls open the passenger door for Quinn and waits till she's in before closing it behind her and walking around and getting in her own side.

"I can't belive you're here. Shit, you're really here with me now. For good right?" It's Santana that entwines their fingers this time. "You're not gonna go back to New York if this acting thing isn't what you want?"

"Nope. You know I'm supposed to be here for the musuem anyway. I would be here with you even if I didn't have that job. I just...just seeing your face over my laptop isn't good enough for me anymore. I need to be able to have you next to me, San." They're at the beach ten minutes later, a private strip in the backyard of a really beautiful house that Santana tells her is new and Brittany's. Quinn's barefoot and ankle deep in the pacific ocean in twenty seconds. She stands there, her just longer than shoulder length hair flowing out behind her as the smell of the ocean is carried to her.

"Jesus...it's so beautiful here." Arms wrap around her midsection, soft thumbs teasing the stirip of skin bared by the wind.

"Yea. Now you're standing here, it is." A weight settles on her shoulder where Santana has laid her head.

"Don't be be cheeesy."

"I'm not. I mean, it's the ocean, it's gorgeous. But i've never...I don't...fuck. I've never loved it, like I love you. But now i've got this picture in my camera of you standing here looking more beautiful than I've ever seen you."

"I love you too. You know that, right?" She can feel slim shoulders lift and fall as the girl behind her shrugs.

"I do now."


	15. Hold

When she awakens, the tears are already falling. The body wrapped around her own is too long, the uscles too tond. It isn't Rachel.

"Shh...Its okay, San. I'm here...i'm right here." The way the words 'I know, Britt' fall from full lips hurts them both. The fact that it's Brittany who's holding her is devastating, because Rachel would be there if she could be, if it was at all possible, if she was alive. It's been nine months and she still lives in dreams where her family is intact...where her wife and son are with her. Or maybe she's with them.

She always wakes up with those arms around her. Too long, too toned, too pale. Britany isn't sure if she'll ever be enough. It's all she wants.

All Rachel can do is watch along from far above, Hoping that soon enough those arms that re so wrong will be just right. 


	16. Balance

A/n: So this is a continuation to the string of drabbles that starts with Chosen and Memory.

When she first sees the instillation done with the exception of her and Jennifer Collins, she's blown away. It's well put together, and Quinn flicks a switch for her, turning all the tv's on, images of makeup commercials, models, and magazines flying by on the screens. She knows Jennifer through Mercedes and she can finally see how this will come together.

Quinn introduces her to Sean after a late lunch, and despite her efforts to never judge a person by their name, she isn't expecting the woman in front of her. Strawberry blonde hair is cropped to the woman's shoulders and it's as wild and free as Quinn's was when she was blonde. Vibrant green eyes smile down at her from what she guesses is a height of around five seven.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you Rachel, I'm Sean. And, seriously...thank you so so much for doing this." Rachel is already grinning, she's excited to sit down with Sean and get an idea of how she came up with the idea and how exactly she wants it to look.

"The idea is really this concept of the way that these companies aquire profit by creating images of beauty and sell them to us, to kids. They tell us that unless we appear a certain way we aren't beautiful. Then they sell us these products, and we're supposed to believe that we'll be more beautiful with these. Be lovable. Anyway, I think it's total bullshit. So I thought I would show the faults in the way they work, in the way they make us feel. Jennifer is this person who's like number one most beautiful person in the world in all the magazines or whatever, and I thought she'd be perfect for this. Whoa, speaking of which, hold on, I have to take this." Rachel watches as she gets up and walks a few feet away, phone in hand. She's on the phone for only thirty seconds when she comes back, crestfallen.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asks, that eyebrow raised above a perfect hazel eye.

"Jennifer face timed me. She can't be here. You know about her brother right? He just passed away. I don't know who to call. Shit shit...okay...think, Sean. Think." Rachel can see when she's figured it out and she can't help the giggle that falls from her lips because she can already hear the no falling from Quinn's lips.

"No."

"Luce please I need someone, and you're totally beautiful without makeup, right Rachel?" the brunette nods, her own hand pulling hair behind her ear so she can see Quinn better.

"You really are. Help her." The pink-haired woman rolls her eyes and puts her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"It's totally unfair that you two ganged up on me like that." Rachel looks up at nothing for a second, thinking about that. Sean is, without a doubt, attractive. It's an interesting idea. She catches emerald eyes for a second as her tongue runs over her lips. The other woman grins at her as she laughs outloud.

"What's so funny?"

"We were thinking about ganging up on you again. Later." Hazel eyes open wide, and they flit over to Rachel a few times like she doesn't believe it.

"Seriously?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." Rachel stands up and so does Quinn. They've got to get back to the galllery to get ready. They start the walk back and the brunette grabs a pale hand to hold in her own.

"Seriously, Rach?" Quinn really needs to come back to New York more.

"Yes, Quinn. Seriously. I'm interested in sleeping with you and Sean. But only if you're just as interested." Quinn takes the time to think while Sean runs a bit to catch up and stand on Rachel's side. She's interested, she thinks. Sex with Sean is always fucking amazing, and who wouldn't want Rachel. She can't deny the fact that the question is whether or not she's okay with anyone else touching her brunette like that.


	17. Text

Her eyes are closed as per request when she feels those soft fingertips sliding up her own hand until they rest on her wrist. She can feel the bracelet being tied on, and when the job is done, lips pressing against the tie and her skin.

"Open them, please." She does, lids still fluttering because of the way having Quinn and her forever scent of peaches and honey so close makes her feel. Soft lips connect to hers, eyes fluttering closed again as Quinn steps closer. Rachel has always loved the way tone arms wrap around her and pull them close together the way both of them need but won't admit.

"Sorry... you're just really beautiful, and sometimes it's hard not to kiss you. Open them again please." She smiles as she does exactly that, forcing herself to reject the need to look down immediately and find her new bracelet with her eyes. She looks up into greenish eyes instead, finding love in them that overshadows the way anyone else has ever looked at her.

"I love you so much, Quinn." The lips a few inches above her curve into a smile as the blonde lifts up her wrist to show her the gift just given. The paper is heavier against her wrist than she thought it would be, but Rachel already loves it. She can't think of anyone else who would give her such a thoughtful gift. The notes of the music are spotted around the small paper rolls that make up the bracelet but she can't read them at all. Quinn sits her down at the piano bench and starts to play the intro music from 'Get It Right'. She starts to sing it herself, not waiting for Rachel to start at the cue. She doesn't need to. It had been Quinn who was wrong, who couldn't stop hurting people she cared about. Rachel is quiet, listening to her singing a song she wrote. She stops halfway through, getting up from the bench.

"I just...I meant the things I said that day, but I know I could've said them in another way. The way you were when you wanted him, I was so afraid that if you got together again you would think about not leaving this place and fulfilling your dreams. I just wanted someone to love me, and I thought if I could both have that from him and keep you from marrying him and staying here it would be two birds. It was me that was messing things up, hurting people, not you. Anyway, you told me in the fall that this was our year to get it right and I think we have. I just want to remember, and want you to remember, that it's only because of you. I'm wearing one too." The blonde lifts her arm and it's only now that Rachel notices the identical bracelet on her wrist. Rachel delicately grabs her wrist, she thought she saw actual writing on one of those roles. She sees it now, the word Rachel written something like old typewriter script.

"I thought, if I ever have another accident, and when I wake up I can't remember you, this'll be here, and I'll know. I may have also gotten your name tattooed across my wrist." She lifts the paper bracelet and there written across her wrist in delicate cursive is the brunette's name. Rachel Barbra Berry. Brown eyes go wide.

"Baby...?"

"I can't shower in this bracelet."


	18. Reach

She feels beautiful when their hands touch. Long, lithe, well defined arms stretch across the space of the blonde's king mattress that end in the gentle carresses of contrasting soft fingertips. It isn't that way for long. Pale fingers wrap around her wrist and Brittany pulls her into those long arms, their hearts hammering together under their presed together chests. The very tip of a forefinger tips her chin up right before the dancer's lips connect to hers. They lay there for a few moments afterwards, breathing each other's air and trying not to smile so hard their faces will stay that way.

Rachel can't get enough of the way Brittany's skin tastes as she kisses along her collarbone, nipping down gently with her teeth when she can't help herself.

"Is it okay if we take your shirt off? I would really love to be touching and kissing under that right now." Brittany smiles at her in a way that no one else ever has and she isn't exactly causes that, but it's okay. They assist each other in removing each other's shirts until their both topless and Rachel's hands are slowly, reverently, caressing the skin covering the blonde woman's ribs. She looks up to catch bright blue eyes, a surrendered honesty in her own.

"What is it?"

"You're just so beautiful Brittany. And I know you've been told that alot and so it's lost it's charm and maybe I shouldn't say it because of that but I don't want to charm you. I just want you to know how." Soft fingers fall over pale ribs again like a waterfall and then Rachel has a firm but gentle grip on perfect hips as she pulls herself up to kiss full lips. She opens her mouth and loves the way the blonde below her licks the roof of her mouth. They seperate and the fingers of Rachel's left hand find themselves tangled in Brittany's.

"You love me?" A pale hand gently wraps around a tan breast, the thumb grazing a peaked nipple, the brunette bends her arms, falling into the caress and breathes out, a sound that isn't a word falling from her lips. It's been a long time since she's let anyone touch her.

"Uhn...Yes. Is that okay?" She gets a yes and gets softly laid out on her back as answer. Brittany kisses her, their bodies pressed together tight again. Her fingers bury themselves in dark hair as she stares into Rachel's maple eyes.

"Is it okay if I love you too?"


	19. Deflection

"You know they're wrong right? Because they are wrong, Rachel." Brittany ran her hand through her hair, looking up at the ceiling with her back resting against the bathroom stall next to the one Rachel was currently standing in.

"Are they though? It's not like they're the first people to say things like that to me. And honestly, look at them, they're gorgeous. They know what attractive is, right? So I look at them, and then I look in the mirror, and it's hard for me to not believe them." She walked out of the stall, her chestnut hair up in a loose bun. Britt caught the strip of perfect skin that quickly dissapeared as Rachel pulled down the tight shirt that barely coverd her upper body, tucking it into her skirt. The brunette blew air out of her mouth while letting her eyes trail over to the mirror, the blonde watched as she frowned.

"Ok. So what about me? Am I gorgeous too?" Brittany asked as her fingers slid along the tan skin of the brunnete's lower bicep. Rachel turned and narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowing above them.

"Of course, Brittany you're completely beautiful. Why do you ask?" Goosebumps raised along her arm as the taller girl's fingers ran down it and linked their hands.

"Because if I'm gorgeous like them then maybe you'll listen to me when I tell you that you're just as beautiful as either of them. Don't let the problems they have with themselves affect you the way they want them to." Brittany pulled the other girl close, wrapping her arms around her and then leaning down to press full lips to a tan forehead.

"But I'm not. Look at me. My nose is too big, I'm too short, my eyes are a boring brown, my hair...there's nothing that I can see here that anyone could ever want."

"And if someone could see you like I do?"Brittany asked, placing her hands gently on sunken shoulders.

"I would warn them that i've been told I'm annoying and overberring, and-" The blonde shut up the the singer by turning her around and attaching their lips, smiling against her when Rachel seemed momentarily too shocked to react. She caressed Rachel's cheekbones as she pulled away, and unable to stop herself, pressed their lips togther one ast time.

"I love your personality, alright? You're great the way you are and the last thing you need to do is change. I know you think no one wants you, but you're wrong. I want you, Rachel. Maybe one day, you'll trust that everything i said is true." Clear brown eyes focused back onto the mirror, their owner frowning as she looked over the two of them, standing together.

"One day."


	20. Tactile

She's not stupid. And it's not like she expected this to be easy or anything, but being away from everyone she's ever cared about isn't what she thought would preocupy her once classes really got started. She keeps repeating in her head that this is Yale and she's got to focus now if she ever wants to have any free time. Her head ducks and she's back into homework mode.

But it pulls at her, drags at her heart. Tears into and rips out this raw need she's alway tried to understand. It has been one month since she last saw and touched Rachel and the effect that knowledge has on her body seems ever-present.

"Ugh." She groans and grabs her books, all of them quickly stuffed into her bag. She can't see anyone near her, but she doesn't want to interrupt anyone else's studying the way she has her own. The number three is dialed into her phone the second she's out the main door, and she heads towards home.

"Hi, Quinn! What's up, I thought you'd declared yourself a study only zone until tomorrow, what's going on?" She can relax a little when that voice comes over her phone, but the ache is still present, pulling. She can hear Rachel, imagine her saying these words, her posture, her smile. But she can't see her, smell her perfume, her shampoo.

"Yea, I did, and I'll get back to it soon, I just kind of really miss you and I thought I'd feel better if I heard your voice, you know?" She can hear the light tones a piano playing softly in the background, can imagine Rachel sitting at the bench, tan fingers playing over the stark black and ivory.

"Of course, I understand. I miss you too, Quinn. It's hard sometimes, being away from the people I care the most about." Rachel would hug her, without annocing her intent to do so like she used to. Maybe Quinn would play the piano while Rachel sang something for her. She dropped her bag at the foot of her bed, falling against it as she yawned. The work she's been forcing herself through is just her trying to be ahead of the curve, it can wait.

"Will you sing to me, Rach? Remember the time you sang that lullaby for Beth and I fell asleep too? I miss her too." Her eyes are closing, the image of Rachel sitting at the piano filling her brain.

"I'll remember. The two of you were adorable. I'll always sing for you, Quinn. Just say the word." The voice on the other line is softer already, almost soothing the overworked student into rest before the lyrics reach her ears.

"Word." The notes sing out from the piano as quietly as they have been since she first heard them, and then there's that voice. The one she knows and loves and needs and feels. Rachel sings so softly...she's made the song her own as she alway does. She can barely open her eyes halway through.

"Thank you Rach. For singing to me, making me feel better. I'm gonna sleep now, so g'night, 'love you." Her pale hand slowly and lazily moves to end the best call she's had all week.

"I love you too, Q."

A/N: Because I was listening to it at the time, Rachel sings Florence and The Machines Blinding.


	21. Imperfection

Sometimes it still takes her by unpleasant surprise when she gazes into the mirror on Santana's wall. The fading pink line that runs from the top of her neck to the tip of her chin always makes her feel more like Lucy than she has in four years. The tears and the constricting throat come quickly, and suddenly she huddled at the foot of the king sized bed with her arms around her knees, eyes still on the ugly scar that distorts the clean paleness of her skin. She's pushed forward when Brittany slides down behind her and wraps her up in long, muscled arms.

"Please don't cry Q. You're okay. I'm right here. Let's get you back into bed, alright?" She's lifted completely off the ground in one smooth movement and seconds later, she's tucked back against a still slumbering Latina. Pale hands reach out for Brittany who walks away wispering just a second. The girl behind her starts to wake, and Quinn is turned around and the tears wiped from her eyes by caramel-skinned thumbs. She gazes into the darkest chocolate eyes and she hates the way Santana and Brittany's beauty has always made her feel.

"I'll take the mirror down if it makes you feel this way. I won't tell you that you shouldn't feel like this, but I wish you didn't. You're so beautiful, Baby...I know you feel like it's the opposite, Quinn, but every inch of you is just as beautiful as it was." Her hazel eyes are a little wide, she knows, but the word that slips from perfect lips isn't one that anyone who mattered has ever called her and she's not sure if she should ask about that. If Santana treats it like nothing she knows she'll be crushed.

"Baby?" Santana smiles in a way that Quinn knows used to be reserved for Brittany and how is she supposed to feel about being added to that exclusive club of people who Santana feels she can be herself with? A tan hand is slowly traced up the back of her neck until it's buried in her hair and she just exhales slowly.

"Yea." Santana leans in and it's Quinn herself who closes the narrow distance between them. Brittany sneaks in behind her and she's wrapped up in these two sets of arms and their are two sets of lips on her and she feels the coolness of Britt's long fingers against the skin over her abs.

"I know...we know that it always hurt you the way we always together and close and we apologize for making you feel so alone. But you aren't anymore. Me and San, we've got you now and we're not going let you feel like no one loves you anymore. Because we do. Both of us.


	22. Share

"Seriously, guys? Again with this? We had this discussion just four days ago, I happen to know for a fact that neither of you are of short memory." Rachel backed herself against the cabinet to slip past Santana, opening the refrigerator when she reached it. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and cocked a hand on her hip, watching as Brittany shrugged awkwardly.

"It's not my fault, really, Rae. San fucked me with the strap on last night, and we passed out. So when I came in here, and saw she still had it on...You know how she looks in the morning. Anyway..shit!-" Rachel rolled her eyes as Santana slammed into her waiting girlfriend again. The blonde was resting her arms against the counter, her ass poking back in Santana's direction.

"She begged me for it. I couldn't say no. Anyway, what you complainin' about anyway. We're fucking hot, and you know it." The brunette walked into the pantry and flicked on the light, searching for the cereal she wanted. She was more than a little hungry, and would without a doubt need the energy when she got back to her own room.

"The problem is maybe i'm more than a little aroused and Noah doesn't return until three, okay?" Rachel fixed herself a bowl while the girl's rested on the couch, spent.

"I could totally fuck you better than him." Santana boasted. Brittany nodded, eyes still closed.

"She can. I've had Puck, not saying he wasn't good though.

"Tell me something I don't know." Rachel huffed out. Santana dissapeared from the room, walking back in thee minutes later.

"Whatever. Like I said, i'd fuck you better than him" Rachel rose her eyebrow, her eyes traching over to a now recuperated blonde. The dancer nodded.

"Okay."

"Yea?" Santana asked

"Yes."


	23. Patience

The real deal is directly in front of her, and yet Santana is having a difficult time explaining the way she felt when she walked into her bedroom and found her wife literally balls deep in someone who looked a hell of a lot like the woman sitting in front of her with a frown on her face. The doorbell rings, and the singer watches as the actress stands, wiping down the front of her skirt just like she remembers.

"Sorry, just give me a sec, I ordered chinese." The latina nods, a small smile on her face as Rachel gracefully strides over to the door and pays for their dinner, coming back a few seconds after. The both of them take seats opposite each other at the booth in Rachel's breakfast nook.

"Kung Pao?" Santana asks, a grin on her face as it's handed to her.

"Of course. You're still my best friend, Tana. So how's Francis handling the spin?" Santana shrugged, reaching for the bottle of Siracha on the table.

"Filming starts in a week and a half, he went with the project in New York thing. I could really care less in all honesty, Rae. It's like I almost feel like I should be more hurt than this. I just lost my wife...shouldn't I be crying all over you?" She caught Rachel's maple eyes, recognizing in them the wordless 'Do you need to?'.

"So why aren't you? It seems like...like you almost expected these occurences." The actress quietly slurps up her noodles as her best friend tries to find a way to explain it.

"I did, I guess. Q told me and Britt one time how she just wanted someone to love her. I thought it could be me, and so I gave her what she wanted. I gave her my heart, but...honestly she broke it long before I caught her cheating. She'd always said she wanted someone to love her, but what she really wanted was for _you_ to love her. I was happy with her. So happy, but I don't know what it'll take for her." Santana pushed her empty carry carton away, breaking into the fortune cookie that Rachel placed in front of her.

"Seriously? Love will lead the way? This totally proves my theory that the world needs new fortune cookie writers." Santana tilted her head, grinning at a huffing Rachel.

"Let your heart make your decisions, it does not get as confused as your head. That's pretty legit. Dessert? Have any of that soy icecream?" Rachel stops her once they slide of the booth and stand, hugging her tightly and then pulling back.

"You know you can right? Cry on me? It's like seventeen percent of my best friend responsibility."

"What's the rest?" Santana asks, following the shorter woman into the kitchen proper and sitting on a barstool at the island.

"Taking care of you when you're sick, babysitting any future children, being said children's godmother, being your emergency contact, trying really hard to hate anyone who hurts you, laughing at your jokes even when they're not funny, loving you, tickling you..that's all I can think of right now...oh! Dragging you home when you're intoxicated. I think that's all, right?" Santana laughs out loud, nodding as Rachel reaches into the freezer.

"Yea, I think so. Love you, Rae." Rachel turns around and smiles openly, bright white teeth on display.

"I love you too, Tana." They fall back on the couch together when they both have full bowls, shoulders pressed together as they eat. Later on, when Santana looking up at Rachel from the broadway actress' lap, she asks the one question she's always wanted to.

"Do you love her, Rachel?" The way it tumbles from her lips surprises her. It's not as if she wants anything to do with Quinn, not anymore.

"No, I don't. My heart is otherwise occupied." Is all she says. Santana wants to pry until the name falls from those lips. But she won't. Rachel Berry is not Quinn Fabray. When the actress is ready to tell her, she will. Santana is patient.


	24. Reality

It's not that she didn't love Santana, she tries to explain to a frowning Rachel over skype. She does love her. But the actress is in her heart, her veins. She fought against it hard, but she lost the war before they even left ohio.

Rachel shakes her head at the blonde, the look on her ever-beautiful face making Quinn feel weaker than she ever has. The tears come before she can stop them, and Rachel's on her immediately.

"You don't get to cry to me Quinn Fabray. You're not the one who found your wife fucking your best friends look a like six months ago. The wife you left your home for, the wife you loved and trusted. God...you're relly testing my stance on non-violence."

"I'm sorry, okay? I knew you would never...even if she and I weren't married. I know how you feel about her, okay? So I thought if I could just...to get it out of my system. Then I could try to be happy." Rachel's clear brown eyes go wide then narrow down, her view skitting away to the side.

"What do you mean how I feel about her?" The blonde, for her part, looks slightly put off.

"I'm not blind, Rachel. I know you're in love with her."

"Lower your voice. I can't talk to you anymore, Quinn. Please don't call me again. I assure you I'll be quite busy anyway. If you attempt to call her and hurt her again, I'll not hesitate to show you how much I love Santana and what I'm willing to do to protect her. Goodbye." The brunette closes her laptop after ending the call, her breath hitching and her lids falling closed when long slender arms wrap around her shoulders and hot breath tickles her ears.

"Did she seriously call you to cry like she's not the one who did something wrong?" The latina rotates the chair the shorter woman is sitting in, plopping down in her lap when their facing eachother.

"She did. I'm having a hard time fighting my desire to injure her. Hungry?" Rachel breaths deep, hugging her best friend close to her. When the woman nods yes, Rachel lifts her with minor difficulty and sits her down on the couch. She stides into the kitchen and retrieves the fritata from the oven and cutting them both a slice, she slides them on plates. The actress gently places both plates on the coffee table, turning back to go grab glasses of orange juice when the until-then silent latina from the couch calls her name. She stops without turning around, frozen to her spot.

"Rachel. Rachel turn around. Look at me... I heard what she said." The actress just sort of crumbles, and suddenly she's on the wooden floor, trying to force herself to breath again. The latina is across the room in seconds, down on her knees in front of the woman who seems to be having a panic attack. She frowns when she meets crying maple eyes.

"I'm...i'm so sorry Tana. I tried. Is this...is this how she feels?"

"I don't know, Rae. But you're nothing like her, and this is different. This is us, we're okay. So please, calm down. Breath." Slowly, her panic subsides and she breaths regularly again. But Rachel isn't sure what exactly this is going to change. She wonders if Santana has changed her mind and if she'll go ahead and stay at Brittany's empty apartment until she returns from her latest tour dancing for Beyonce.

"I wasn't ready."

"I know, I'm sorry, baby. Would it have been better if I had waited for you to tell me?" Rachel shakes her head, standing up and walking in to the kitchen to pour two glasses of orange juice.

"No. I was so afraid, Tana. I can't picture myself being brave enough to have let it out."

"Afraid of what? I'm you're best friend, I would never hurt you intentionally."

"I don't want you to look at me differently. I was afraid you would. Afraid that you would pull away from me. Afraid that you wouldn't love me. That you wouldn't feel the same. As long as you didn't know, I could feel like there was a possibilty I was wrong. Now that you know, those all still seem like possibilities."

"They aren't."


	25. Ache

A/N: This came out of nowhere. Anyway, this is a letter fic.

Are you happy? I...I've always thought that I could give you what you needed. You know, in the case that she not come back to you. I was ready to finally gather my courage and step up. But of course she did and I thought...that I could let you go and move on. Become a Rachel who didn't want you so badly anymore. I didn't intend to ever tell you I've been harboring this deep and resounding desire for you. But I couldn't help myself sending this letter, this last attempt before I raised the white flag. So it's important that you're honest Santana.

Even if all you say is that you'd rather be unhappy with her than happy with me. It will undoubtedly hurt me, but you wouldn't be the first to do so.

It isn't either that I want Brittany to hurt, I do not. But as you and the others have always said, I'm exceddingly selfish, correct? Self-serving?

There was a time when I wanted to be different. Someone you could want. I tried to find something inside me that was worthy of you, but there was nothing. So I decided to change. Change my face, my wardrobe, my personality. But then, someone I once trusted, Finn, told me there was nothing wrong with me, that I was beautiful. I believed him, but in the end it seems his words were as empty as those of the fathers who once claimed to love me.

Regardless of the fact that I'll never be deserving of you, I know I can make you happy. Help you achieve your dreams and give you the children you've been afraid to admit you want.

When we were younger I was afraid to send a letter very similar to this one. The person you had to be to protect her would have spread it around McKinley without a second thought. Now that I think about it, perhaps that would not have been so terrible.

It is important to me that both you and Brittany know that it's not my intention to tear apart your relationship or cause any problems to occur. It's just that there's this constant, dull, deep ache in my chest that has _your_ name on it Santana. I've become accustomed to it and regardless of that I thought i could get over it...over you. It seems to me now that I'll carry my love for you with me for far longer than I originally thought. Goodbye for now, Santana.

Sincerely,

Rachel Barbra Berry


	26. InHuman

The lies that have built a vivid picture of her facticious life are slowly being peeled away. To be honest, she's more than a little afraid that soon enough, all that will remain is the truth. It is a fairly recent developent for her to be deeply concerned about that.

Making the three girls who have caused her to consider this place worth the possibiity of the end of her life forget they ever knew her isn't something she wants. But it's haunting her, thinking about the lack of recognition in their eyes, the absense of the love she's come to rely on to keep her breathing.

Her desire to live was all but extinguished when she came to Lima alone and broken, emptied of all the good in her not so human life. It only got worse once she procured the house and enrolled herself into school. She knew humans showed plenty of ill will to others of their species, but she was plenty surprised to learn that this method of behavior was also evident in children.

The way the three girls she could now say she loved had attacked her almost exclusively had caused her to take a closer look, and though many a time she considered leaving because of their very personal brand of torture, Rachel saw something in Santana, Brittany, and Quinn that drove her to persist.

She looked up at them now, catching eyes the color of a late, lonely night. Rachel could see the everpresent fear in her. Fear of turning out to be exactly the person those who didn't have the pleasure of truly loving her thought she was. A whore, a bitch, unlovable, unloving, undeserving of honest and innocent Brittany. Fear of being hurt by someone else she loved and trusted.

Rachel looked down again, this was going to cause her more pain than she could bear.

"Rachel whatever you have to tell us, we love you, it won't change anything, okay? We promise." Brittany reached out, long slim fingers caressing soft cinnamon skin. Diamond clear sapphire eyes softened for a moment while the blonde dropped her hand.

"Look, if this is some thing where you try to let me down easy or something, I don't need it, okay? Just say what you need to say."

"Quinn, please stop. That isn't what this is, I love you okay? We all do, baby. I would never hurt you intentionally. There's nothing wrong with you at all. I know that's what you're thinking, but I love you just as much as I love Tana and Britt. Your fears about the three of us wanting to be together without you aren't true." Quinn narrowed her eyes, a delicate eyebrow lifting above golden orbs . Rachel frowned. Under other circumstances, she wouldnt even think about reading her girlfriends mind.

"How did you do that?"

"Did you really think that, Q?" Santana asked, her fear converting into pain.

"Did you just do what I think you did?" Brittany asked, eyes widened. Rachel had wondered for a few months after meeting the leggy blonde if she too was not of human origin. Brittany was, in fact human, but her ability to read into peoples actions and body language was beyond normal.

"I...I am not human! That is what I needed to tell you all. Okay?" Rchel yelled, stepping back from the girls as three sets of eyes widened to varying degrees. The dimunitive brunette listened in as Quinn questioned in her head whether or not she was awake, or if Rachel was lying to hide the truth of the three girls she called berrittana in her head. Rachel broadcasted to her without thinking.

'That isn't true. I already told you that, Quinn. Please stop trying to find nonexistent faults in yourself. I love you, baby. I couldn't live without any of you. It's why I had to do this.' Quinn visibly shook her head, looking up at Rachel in controlled panic.

"Oh god, she's not lying! She was just in my head!" Santana grabbed Brittany and Quinn's wrist, pulling them back towards the door.

"Really, Rae? Told you Santana. Told you. Talk to me too!"

'I'm so sorry for the lies. I didn't mean to hurt any of you. I came here to hide away, protect myself. But the three of you...were always attacking me, and when I found you behind the girls you pretended to be, I couldn't help the way I fell. I love you, Quinn, Brittany, Santana. I was so afraid to tell you. Afraid that you would react negatively.'

"Get out of their heads you freak! I can't believe you would do this to us! Lie after lie after lie. Why didn't you just fucking...i don't know...zap us when we were treating you like shit? It couldn't have hurt worse than this-"

"I still love you Rach, i'll help keep your secret too." Santana pulled a pouting Brittany further away as she and Quinn backed into the foyer.

"Please! I can't live without the three of you! I won't! Santana please. Stop and think about this. Last year when we watched I Am Number Four you said you'd be okay being with an alien. I remember. I thought that, that if I had to courage and need to tell you, you would be okay, that you'd still love me. I need you to still love me. I need you and Quinn both to say it, please. Please." Two blondes wrestled themselves free of the tallest brunette in the room, holding a thankful alien girl in their arms as they reaffirmed their love for her. Santana stood her back to the door, car keys in hand. Rachel whimpered as she locked it, once again having to pull out abilities she'd made sure to keep secret.

"I love you. I do. I'm not a robot, there's no switch for me to just flick. But I'm not sure I can deal with this. I know what I said, but you know me and my fucking mouth. I never thought you'd be standing in front of me telling me you aren't from this fucking planet! I'm sorry. But I don't think I can do this." The latina wiped the tears from her eyes when Rachel started to sob, collapsing to her knees.

"Then go. All of you can go. I won't take them from you, and visa...visa versa. If I have to let you go, I will. My fathers told me once that I could use this to rewrite my own memories of people if it was nessesary." She held up the thin, six inch visual memory modifier left to her by those she had long since lost. All three girls were in front of the door now, Brittany, kneeling down to run a hand through dark hair.

"Were you going to do that to us? Make us forget we said no?" Santana asked

"No. Make you forget you ever knew me. That I ever existed. Sell the house, erase my records from the school. Erase my presence from the minds of those who've heard of me or seen me. Dissapear, try to live with a destroyed heart. I expect...that I would fail, that in the end, I would end my life. Just please let me explain this, let me show you I'm the same person you've known."

"I'm sorry...I don't want you to hurt. I don't want to forget you. I don't want you to forget us either. But what you're asking of us it too much. It's my job to protect the two of them, it alway has been. I just never thought it would be _you_ I was protecting them from." Santana pulled the other two away and waited until Rachel unlocked the door. Disapearing behind it when she did.

"Santana please!"

"I'm sorry." Rachel slowly lifted the memory editor from the floor, placing it over her eyes. When she heard the car pull away she pressed the button on the side, activating the interface that she operated with her mind.

'I'm Rachel Barba Berry. I am leaving Lima, Ohio for New York tomorrow morning. No one in the town has ever heard of me or met me, with the exception of Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray, and Brittany Pierce. Erase all other memory indents.' Rachel frowned when the word completed appeared.

'I am in love with Santana, Brittany, and Quinn. They do not love me enough to stay. Their denial of me hurts, but my heart is not broken. Imprint.' Complete

'The house is for sale, all communication is to be done via internet, transfer of funds through bank accounts. I have graduated from McKinley High. Verify.' Complete

'I can live without them. Imprint.' Complete

'I _will_ live without them. Imprint.' Complete


	27. Wounded

A/N: Lyrics are from Uh Huh Her's Common Reaction. Listened to it for half an hour on repeat to write this.

(You don't feel right)

How can you feel when

you're wounded like that dear?

(Don't feel right)

Don't mind, it's a common reaction

(You get higher)

And you tell me everything is alright

(And you don't mind) But you don't mind

Waste my time

She couldn't watch it anymore. The recently visible cracks in Quinn Fabray's old hand me down armor were ruining her. She could see the breaks in the battered heart, the self-hate, the poison part of the girl that refused to ask for help vocally. The exaustion, the dust. Hazel eyes that glowed stranglely with the light of a lit cigarette. Jumping quickly off the cliff of her hesitance, Santana reached out and wrapped her fingers around the smooth pale skin of the shattered girl's bicep. She turned with hatred warping her features, Quinn's patented stare of boredeom setting in once she recognized dark eyes.

"What do you want?" She asked, sucking in as much smoke as she could before her eyes fell shut and she leaned back against the fencing. Santana watched as the smoke finally emptied from her lungs, beautiul hazel displayed again as her lids slid open.

"Can you still feel those?" The frowning girl asked, eyeing the last cigarette in the pack as the blonde slipped it between her lips.

"No." Santana slid a lighter from her jeans, lighting the other girl's cigarette and then stealing it. Quinn reached for it angrily but the latina backed up, producing from atop her ear a joint which she handed over. She slid closer again when the girl nodded her head.

"I guess I meant more than that. I know you're not numb. You'd probably pretend to be happy if you were, and I'm not a fucking idiot. I can see you, Quinn. Into you. I just...I know you don't feel right. Like somethin's broken in you. Something you can't reach. But I can reach it for you.

"Look, S. If this is something you feel like you need to do to try and bring back the trinity for her, then don't waste your time on me. I never did anything but hurt you and Britt. I'm not worth it. And I guess I don't mind feeling like this. I've been through worse." Santana sighed, and lit up the joint between perfectly bowed lips.

" I'm not here for her. I'm here because _I_ need you. _I_ want you back. And I understand how you feel, but you don't have to bear any of this. You can be happy. And in all honesty i just want you to be happy. I'm there now, and it's nice. You'll like it. So come on, beautiful, waste my time." Santana took the offered joint and leant closer, sighing into soft lips as Quinn leaned into her.

"Okay."


	28. Solitude

When Rachel get's a movie role and moves out of the apartment she shared with Santana, they realize how much they need eachother.

A/N: This...i don't know. It crawled out of me. For Pezberry week day two. I decided to do those in whatever order they come to me if they do.

She doesn't expect the insomnia that makes her so angry, seclusive, and restless. Doesn't expect the way she always passes by Rachel's unslept in room with her eyes squeezed shut tight. Or the way Leaving their-her... her apartment makes her feel. Lonely and lost and more alone than she's felt in two and a half years.

She does the expect the calls she gets every night at ten thirty. The way Rachel's voice sounds so much further away when she cant feel the familiar warmth against the left side of her body. The singer finds herself waking up at five thirty in the morning. The sound of the garbage truck on the street below is welcome; her appartment is quiet. She wakes up and walks just as quietly into the kitchen, there's not coffee waiting, no vegan pancakes...none of that stupid fake bacon she let Rachel talk her into eating. It's stupid that she's still eating vegan now that her only reason for doing so is gone, but she cooks herself some of that egg substitute before finally leaving the apartment she used to share.

When she walks into the studio, tears filling up her dark eyes, Sean, the producer, looks like some idiotic words of comfort are formulating on his tongue, but she shakes her head and he just looks back at the board as she heads into the booth. It's been fifteen days and it's too much for her to take. The song she records makes it all too clear how she's falling apart. That's one thing she learned from Rachel. Sing it out...right?

Santana has honestly never felt so stupid. They weren't even...they're just fucking friends...were? Is it past tense now? Either way, the only other person to make her feel like a coward lives in Los Angeles, and being three thousand miles away from her feels like falling off an eighty story building and gaining nothing from it but a broken body, a broken heart. No one catches her. She wonders nightly if she's worth the burden of it.

But what could she say? What could she do? "Rae. I know you live in LA now, but I...Fuck- I'm in love with you and shit... I just...fuck...I'm incapable of living without you, okay?" This is what she does, and she figures that even if her best friend tries to let her down easy, she'll be okay.

"Okay. Come open the door, the pizza's getting cold." Santana doesn't even take the time to hang up her phone, it falls to their couch while she sprints towards the door, tears finally falling from her eyes when they lock with the clear brown eyes she loves so much. Rachel grins the way she does, eyes shining and mouth wide around white teeth. The actress has to drop the pizza. Suddenly there's a beautiful woman in her arms and tears in her blouse.

"You're here." Santana whispers when their lips seperate. Before she can speak, Rachel's lips are attacked again.

"Calm down baby. I'm right here, okay? Right here."


	29. Impromptu

"Oh...Santana, sorry I didn't." Rachel flicked her brown eyes up, then away. The other girl trying and failing to ignore the way the orange lamps made them shine. The Latina frowned and turned away with a lip between her teeth, continuing to wipe up the now clean corner table she had started to try to keep busy for her breaks over the last two weeks. Finally dropping her towel, she turned, her eyes sweeping up Rachel's shape before their eyes locked.

"I have an Idea. I'll pretend it doesn't hurt that you don't remember I said I got this job, and you can walk out of here without being inconvenienced by my apparently shitty attempt at filling the role of your disappearing best friends, yea?"

"Kurt and Quinn didn't exactly disappear, okay. And I never said your attempt at being there for me was...shitty...ok I just. I was confused, it wasn't like you, taking that option. Things with Brody are...were- complicated. And Kurt wanted.-" Santana shook her head, taking her tray behind the counter and picking up her drink and a plate of stupid ginger cookies before she took her seat. She leaned back in defeat when Rachel sat next to her, already digging into her favorite cookies.

"No, ok. It wasn't fucking like me. None of this is like me. I used to handle all my problems with my mouth and my hands, and you had a problem with that, so I started doing it your way, and you didn't want that either? Like what the fuck, Rachel? Whatever, in the end things are the same. Or those dick-heads face's would agree."

"Yes. Well you were right about Brody, and in your own way of saying it for the millionth time, Finn. Okay, I get it. And I'm sorry for kicking you out. It wasn't the best decision I would've made."

"Fuck no it wasn't. Now what, you did remember I work here? Quinn's still busy opening her own jar of Berry-brand pressed lemons and Kurt's off living all gay-day-hay-day and you're lonely?" She looked up, pink tongue tucking out to lick over a full lip and raised a brow.

"Because you should know now, before I even think of letting you have me as a friend again, that I won't be her. I won't. I don't want to be. So you know?" She shook her chest flirtatiously and winked before sipping at her coffee.

"I think the situation is are different. I think you haven't spent the last four years trying to force me not to look at you the way I looked at everyone else. We'll be fine, okay.

"I want to be." The Latina admitted, finally allowing their hands to slip together among the warmth of the coffee on the table.


	30. Reflection

Follow up to Drabble 19 deflection. This took, I guess, a darker turn that what i'd anticipated when i started to write it.

Making sure her girlfriend graduates is more important than her feelings. More important than how insignificant she still feels next to the two of them as they stay up for hours, until Santana looks at her phone and realizes it four am one night...well, morning. It's only two weeks until they find out if all this hard work is paying off to help the one thing they all have in common, Brittany. She's getting better at understanding what the blue-eyed blonde herself describes as the inconsistencies of the English language. And that's her most difficult class, literature. She's a wiz with physics and math, and has an ability to remember random historic events and facts easily. Rachel's confident that if they continue to help her, she'll pass with a B and walk with her across that stage and towards their future together.

Santana closes her book and Quinn's too. the other blonde is leaning tiredly on her girlfriend, fussing about Santana driving them home. From what Rachel can pick up, she's worried about a potential accident after having just gotten her ability to walk back after so many months. The shorter brunette looks over at her own girlfriend, who looks almost as tired. She stands, grateful for the recent muscle training she'd added to her morning work out as she lets her much taller love lean on her on their way up the stairs.

"Come on, you two can stay in the guest room." It's...uncomfortable, even speaking to them about something that doesn't concern Britt's studying. Rachel doesn't hate them, she isn't exactly sure if she's capable of it. And although they don't treat her like some random piece of horse shit they stepped in anymore, they've yet to apologize for previous behavior. But Rachel understands. If they tried to apologize, she can easily imagine herself telling them to fuck off. Which would only disappoint Britt. So in a twisted way, it works. They don't talk, they help Britt, and the small brunette can't wait for a future in which she knows she doesn't have to see their faces every fucking day.

She gently lays Britt down in their bed, kissing her forehead and tucking her in before she turned to find the two of them standing in her doorway. She slipped past wordlessly and led them to the guest room down the hall.

"Shorts and tees in the top drawer, shower through that door for in the morning, towels in the bathroom closet." She turns to leave, gritting her teeth against hearing Santana talking about needing her beauty sleep. As if.

Back in her room she strips off her jeans and tank top, slipping in bed in front of Britt, knowing her girlfriends habit of naturally wrapping her arms around her the way she always seems to need. Across from her is a mirror, and despite the dark, she thinks maybe, finally, she can see what Brittany sees.


	31. Wanted

"San...please take them off, I need I need you to touch me." The Latina pulled back, strong arms keeping her up over the almost naked brunette. When a moment later, Santana had only moved to take a gorgeous breast in her right hand, Rachel whined, bowing up into the contact. "No...inside, Santana."

The normally clear maple eyes below her are coffee dark and dilated, their owner is taking deep breaths, groaning loudly when her nipple is twisted between a dark thumb and forefinger. She wines louder when suddenly all contact is lost. Rachel sits up, groaning when she notices a completely naked Santana has vacated the bed.

"No. No, I can't do this, I won't. Not to you. I'm sorry Rach. This is...this was a bet. Fuck! Fuck, fuck. I didnt want to hurt you. I don't." She continued cursing to herself while Rachel watched, confused about the details of what was going on.

"You bet someone that you could get me to have sex with you? Who would bet you for that? Why did you accept?" Rachel moved to the edge of the bed, locking eyes with the latina who appeared devastated. She didn't understand that. Hadn't she already won?

"I was at Britt's last week, after I took you home after the indie showing in Columbus. I was nervous about what you'd said about the two of us having sex. She said that if you were okay with us just having sex casually and I wanted that then it should be fine. I tried to tell her that wasn't the only thing I wanted, that I wanted something more with you, but then Q and Mercedes came downstairs and they said-" Rachel, despite the situation, giggled a little. Hearing someone else rant like this was odd. When Santana looked at her with those tears in nearly black eyes, she apologized.

"Why were they there? What did they say, San?"

"They were having a glee girl's sleepover but I told Britt that'd we'd be out of town until pretty late. Mercedes said that I might as well give on whatever scheme I had going because you'd never sleep with me. And then Quinn said that you wouldn't anyway because I wasn't good enough for you. That no one wants me, not even Britt. So I told her that someone did. That you did, and I'd prove her wrong." Rachel frowned at the things that her supposed friends had said, standing on her knees at the end of the bed to pull the Latina closer. She kissed her deeply, pouring all of herself into the declaration of obvious love for Santana.

"You did. I want you, okay? And I think they were wrong for insinuating you were unlovable when it's _obviously_ untrue."

"What do you mean?" The still naked girl lay down next to Rachel, moaning softly when she straddled her stomach, sliding as a result of how wet she still was.

"Well, I love you. Didn't I say that? Haven't I told you that?" Santana shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I thought I had. Well, Santana, I love you. And this thing we're about to do, isn't casual for me. And as long as we're on the same page with that then it's okay." She couldn't help leaning down to take a darker nipple between her lips, sucking and nibbling gently, then leaning away to twist slightly rougher. Santana moaned beneath her, eyes as dark as a void as she rolled her hips upward, searching unsuccessfully for friction.

"Rach...mmm please, please." Rachel kissed her jaw softly, running one hand through her hair and the other down her stomach and through her to press firmly against her clit, rubbing in circles and then pinching between her fingers.

"What do you need, baby? Hmm? Tell me what you need." The singer had to admit that topping was indeed a hell of a turn on, but she couldn't wait to just let go, to have Santana over her again. She slid her hand down, quickly sliding two fingers into Santana with ease due to the ample wetness between perfect thighs. She thrust in deeper, drumming her fingers against the spongy flesh she felt.

"Nng, yes. Fuck!" Santana's hips rolled down towards Rachel's long fingers as the Jewish girl thrust in, rolling up when the other girl curled her fingers to pull out a bit.

"Is this what you need, San? Or do you need my tongue, hmm? Both?"

"Yes, yes, both. Please Rachel pl...please." She kissed her forehead then slid down the bed, moaning at the smell that only intensified when she pushed tan thighs further open. She pushed her tongue out at Santana's swollen clit, flicking it with the tip, then sucking it between her lips. it was that last brush of her fingers against the taller girl's spot and the light scrape of her teeth against her clit that sent Santana overboard, bucking up and bowing so far she almost sat up. Rachel licked her clean and then her fingers before she crawled back up to kiss full lips.

It took Santana a few minutes to even move, let alone speak. Rachel was a bit tired to, she stretched out, barely touching Santana due to the heat. She grew excited when the other girl crawled on top of her, tweaking her nipples and rubbing their wet centers together for good measure.

"Fuck. You're so sexy, Rachel. That was so so good, baby." Rachel grinned and pulled Santana off her and down into her side.

"I would have to agree, but the heat wave is killing me. I suggest we relax for a while, and then, San, you can fuck me. Deal?"

"Deal, babe."


	32. Emilio

**A/N**: this is obviously super fucking short. When I started it my intention was to write about Santana being a pothead and being constantly nagged by Quinn about it. Well, Quinn and Santana's alcoholic mother. Then going to hang out and smoke with someone who never bothers her about anything, just chills with her. Only for it to turn out to be Rachel.

But then, this happened, so it turned into me writing about Santana's parents trying to get her to publicly renounce her homosexuality and became what you see below. Don't ask me how.

...

She was over it. Her mother's poorly disguised guilt trips and her father's blatant disregard were no longer her concern. I mean, how fucking dare her madre ask her to, quote: "renounce your homosexuality for the four years it will take you to graduate college and be completely out in the world and away from any real potential to embarrass us with your behavior, mija. Don't be selfish."

Like, who the hell says that to their kid anyway. She doesn't fucking know. Not her, that's for sure. Her son, with his perfect dark eyes and bright blonde hair, will never have to worry about losing his family because of something he may or not be. Because of something he couldn't change even if he wanted to.

She of course had to tell her mother and father to fuck off, or rather to suck the dick she did indeed happen to be equipped with. She had actually been surprised when they basically begged her to let them pay off her fiance Brittany and her family, make them disappear. So it was abandon or be abandoned.

When she made the obvious choice... the _right_ choice... she'd been reminded by the man she used to call papi that she no longer had a family. All of this while being kicked out of her childhood home. Her last words while inside their home were to remind them that she did actually have a family. In her little Emilio and her perfect Brittany.


	33. Shift

A/N: So this came out of nowhere really. And I guess it's definitely AU. I may write more snippets of their story. I definitely plan to write one from Britt's perspective. I hope you enjoy this and if you do, please say so. I may end up moving it to it's own drabble and one shot collection like puzzle pieces. Thanks for reading.

Santana isn't sure who or what she expected to see when Mike called and told her that he had someone for her tour. But she didn't expect her. She didn't expect to see that huge smile flashed at her, didn't expect to be wrapped up in those arms. She's been on her knees begging god for another chance for over six months. Another chance to be happy, to see her face. And now she's got it, because Brittany is standing in front of her.

She isn't sure what's been done to grant her this prayer. She talks to Mike and asks him to pinch her and she doesn't jolt awake with tears in her eyes like usual.

"What's her name, Michael?" He looks at her a little funny, but speaks anyway. She doesn't even remember the last time she didn't call him Mike or The Changster or something.

"Brittany Pierce. She's straight up amazin' , S. Seriously, i'm a little jealous of her natural talent."  
>"Yea...Yea, okay." Said blonde finished out her routine and walked over. Cautious, Santana extended her hand. It went ignored, and she was surrounded suddenly by toned arms. Through the sweat, she can smell the pineapples and oranges and she wants to just kiss her and feel those lips on her own again.<p>

"Hi, I'm Brittany! It's nice to meet you Santana. That was my last class of the day, um if you want we can go next door and talk about the tour?" The blonde gathers her bag and they venture to the Starbucks next door to Mike's studio. Santana both orders and pays for her passion tea lemonade and Brittany's orange mango smoothie and only realizes that knowing a stranger's order is a little weird when the dancer looks at her a little funny with a grin on her face.

"Um..." If there's anyone who would believe the story she'd have to tell to make the blonde understand how she knows her order it's Brittany herself, but the last thing Santana wants to do is screw this chance up by destroying the universe or something.

"Wanna tell me about it?" Light filters in through the glass of the front of the shop and shines off of jewel-clear light blue eyes and the latina looks down at her hand, quietly gasping when she sees a pale thumb rubbing into her palm to calm her the way her Brittany did. She wonder's if there's a difference between them.

"One day Britt Britt. I promise."


	34. Sanguine

A/N: So this one wouldn't let me sleep last night. I know it's kind of broken and maybe not worth uploading but I just kind of really wanted to. The song is an original. I'm not a song writer so no flames on that at least please.

When Rachel walked into the choir room, she was surprised and a little miffed that she wasn't the first one there. Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Mike, and Tina were set up in the center of the room, tuning instruments and speaking amongst each other quietly. She walked up to Quinn and tapped her on the shoulder, distracting her from plugging in to her amp.

"May I ask what the five of you are doing?"

"We're setting up for a performance, Rachel."

"Just go sit down, Berry. We'll be ready in a few. We'll start up when everyone else gets here. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Oh, what song are you performing?"

"It's an original, will you just go sit the fuck down? Everyone's coming in." Huffing, Rachel went and took her seat at the front, smiling when her boyfriend came in and placed a quick kiss to her lips.

"Hey, babe. What are they doing?"

"Performing an original song I suppose. They weren't willing to part with more information than that. I wasn't aware they played instruments."

"Oh, Quinn told me her dad was a jazz guitarist before his dad made him stop so I guess she could have learned from him. I knew Mike's grandpa played the bass. But I definitely didn't know Brittany played the drums. She probably isn't as good as me though."

"No, i doubt it, you're a very talented percussionist Finn." As she finished speaking everyone finished talking and Mr Shue walked in the door, customary hand clap ignored as he wondered what the kids were doing set up with instruments.

"Hey, Santana what are you up to?"

"We've got a song to do, Shue obviously. If you go sit down we'll start." When he sat next to Finn. Mike leaned into his microphone to introduce them at his latina friend's nod. She didn't want to speak. The song would do it for her.

"We're Diabla and the Tempests and this is Sanguine." He started strumming at his bass; deep, haunting, tones that filled the choir room and much of the hallway outside it. Tina started pressing at the keys to Brad's piano, mid range tones filling out more of the melody. Next was Brittany at the drums setting a demanding and high paced beat that had the whole band rocking in position. She _was_ better than Finn. Quinn started at her guitar at the higher end humming dully to give a hint to the complete tone of the song. When Santana dropped in with her guitar at an unforgiving pace, her fingers flying over the neck of her guitar, Rachel looked at her hard, focused visage, and was starting to understand that this would not be followed by happy, uplifting lyrics.

"You know, she said 'We're your _family_ honey'. The fool I've been I believed her. You've left my life in an unrecognizable whirl. The last thing that's gonna fix it is money. Oh, papi keep your dollars, oh boy...keep your songs. I feel the pain but you'll _never_ hear me holler, Sanguine." The pace hastened for the chorus and Rachel thought over the lyrics, recognizing her own words to Santana about them being a family from the year before.

"Don't you know how much blood is on your hands? Sanguine? Oh is this the limit of what you could stand, Sanguine? I bet I no longer fit your brand Sanguine." The whole band sang the word Sanguine when it was spoken, solidifying the importance of the word.

"Oh so you feel justified? Say you always knew how far _I_ could slip. My place in this you clarified. Her tears fall as my life drips from my fingertips. Papi, does it make you feel like a man to take a hands on approach? Sorry, is that not a topic I should broach? Sanguine, oh you know they say you didn't mean it, hey."

"What have you done to them now? Stand by your man they say, stand by your boy." Rachel was torn between feeling guilty, angry, ashamed...she understood what the the band's lead singer was saying. She watched the few tears they let do so fall from the eyes of each band member. It seemed they were closer than she thought.

"Don't you know how much blood is on your hands? Sanguine? Oh is this the limit of what you could stand, Sanguine? I bet I no longer fit your _brands_, Sanguine. Sanguine.

"Oh but you were right, Sanguine." Suddenly the performance was over and Santana was wiping her eyes. She looked over to her boyfriend to see that he looked confused, angry, and a little guilty. The latina in the front slid her guitar strap over her shoulders and set it down carefully in her case once she'd unplugged. Finn was standing and walking over to her before Rachel could stop him.

"Was that song about me?"

"I don't know, you idiot, was it?"

"I think it was, yea. And don't call me an idiot. What you said about your dad taking a hands on approach...was that, is that true? Did he hit you?"

"Yea, but like you fucking care you borderline illiterate oaf. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. Maybe you should focus on your part of the song and not his. You're not a good person, Finn. What you did to me was fucked up and you nearly got me killed, bloodthirsty. I hope you take what's been said and sung and try to change." She slid the guitar case's strap over her shoulder and picked up her amp, turning towards the rest of the band who also had their stuff packed up and ready to go. All five walked out of the choir room , Santana the last out. Leaving behind the so called family that had been no such thing to her.


End file.
